Iron County register., 1887-06-30

LOUD whispering, and then came
the clatter of retreating boot
heels along the sidewalk. Mrs.
Briggs returned to bed, while
Brown, with every nerve at a tension,
laid his head back on the pillow.
slowly trying to persuade himself that
the entertainment was over.
Alas, it had but begun, and he had
been listening to the opening chorus.
Headed by irrepressible Tommy, re-
lays of boys invaded the sanctity of the
church, and from midnight till dawn
the clangor of the Methodist bell was
profusely punctuated with the popping
of firearms and shouts of hilarious ju-
veniles
Mr.. Browns savage glare across the
breakfast table on the following morn
ing was in marked contrast to Tommy
Briggs look of artless candor, and the
| slightly mischievous smile which
lowered about Miss Vanvarre's lips as
she nodded cool response to his own
curt greeting.
The Widow Briggs hoped, as she
poured out the matutinal coffee, that
Mr.. Brown slept tolerably well. Mr..
Browns reply, both short and snappy
caused Miss Vanvarre to open her
violet eyes rather wider than usual.
And the widow detecting her son, who
was on the verge of a g1ggle, in the act
of winking facetiously at Miss Doris
over the rim of his cup, led him chok-
ing and gasping from the table by the
lobe of his ear.
After breakfast Mr.. Brown betook
himself to a seat on the piazza, where,
in gloomy silence, he listened to the
irritating popping of an inexhaustible
supply of fire-crackers exploded by
Master Briggs, aided and abetted. as
nearly as he could judge, by Miss Van
varre, who swung indolently in her
hammock behind leafy screen not
very far away.
But the flre-crackers lost their
charm, and after dinner Tommy, great
ly to Mr.. Browns relief, betook him.
self to the village-green. Miss Van
varre also had disappeared. The
Widow Briggs guessed she'd gone
down to the pond after lilies. And,
curiously enough, it suddenly occurred
to Brown that in the peaceful shores
of Timson's pond, far from the mad
dening crowd of Wayback Juveniles,
he could commune with nature alone.
"She isn't here, after ALL" he grum-
bled, as after somewhat hurried walk
through an orchard of gnarled apple
trees he reached the shady shore of the
miniature lake.
Possibly "she" was a reference to
nature. Yet the eagerly expectant
gaze which he sent in every direction.
would seem to suggest something more
than the observance of a mere imper-
sonality.
In the middle of the circular sheet
of blue over which the trees bent low
ingly, as though admiring G the pictured
reflection of their shapely limbs, was
miniature island belted about with
lily pads whose green was spotted at
frequent intervals by white blossoms.
varre, close to a clumsy, flat-bottomed
skiff belonging to Tommy Briggs.
Seeing Brown in the distance, the
young lady waved her handkerchief
high in the air.
"a flag of truce" murmured Mr..
Brown, "but what"
"I-have-no--oars, called the fair
exile, and Brown grasped the situation
at once. Miss Vanvarre had probably
pushed out in the oarless boat as far
as the fringing lily pads and been
drifted by the gentle breeze to the isl.
and shore!
After the manner of most imagina.
tive lovers, Brown had burned for an
opportunity of distinguishing himself
in the sight of the object of his af-
fection, and here was chance. True,
Miss Vanvarre was not in peril, but
most assuredly she was in distress.
There was no other boat on the pond,
which itself was known to be of fabu-
lous depth, and raft was beyond his
constructive powers
All these thoughts passed rapidly
through the young mans mind,
as, rapidly divesting himself of his
light serge coat and vest, hat and
shoes, Mr.. Brown, who in his best
estate was not only fairly good swim
mer, but something of an athlete as
well, entered the water, which was un-
pleasantly cool by reason OF its depth,
and struck boldly out for the island,
nearly an eighth of mile away, where
a Observation-Disclosures Hero awaited the
coming of scantily-attired Leander.
"Mr. Brown, how could you be So
foolish" was the salutation which
| reached his ears IS he began striking